“The misconception that Indigenous languages are “lost” is by design.”

 Swiss German emulates the land: undulating like the rolling green hills, an alpine chill coating the tongue at the crest of a sentence. Styrian dialect, conversely, burns like Alte Zwetschge Schnaps and feels like damp cobblestone to speak. People are constantly telling me not to learn dialects—that I should focus on High German because everything else is a waste of time, but I can’t get enough of patois.

The more I trace the meandering rivers of German dialect, the more salient it becomes that “King’s English” does not grant me the same sort of intimate, synaesthetic sensations about the West Coast. English is my mother tongue and perhaps my greatest passion, but it feels stapled on here. It floats awkwardly above the sugar maple and cedar rather than braided in with the bark, sinks like a caravel wreck in the Salish Sea.

I’d never considered learning the languages of my colonized ancestors; those histories were never presented as worth excavating, and both of my parents only speak English. I was always encouraged to focus on Germanic and Latinate languages, because they were practical and looked good on my resume. Why bother learning a language that barely anybody speaks? But when I first learned how to say the seasons in the Stó:lō dialect of Halkomelem, and when I started calling the “Fraser River” by its real name, I felt like I was beginning to experience the land in which I was raised in a way that I never had before. Like I was unearthing a part of myself. Language can’t truly be lost when it’s embedded in the land itself.

 I first met Jaskwaan, a Xaad Kil speaker and teacher, while in the Indigenous Perspectives module at SFU together. Jaskwaan gifted me the reminder that the attitude in which we talk about these things shapes our actions. When we think of a language as finitely “dead” or “lost,” we don’t see sense in learning or reclaiming these things, especially in a society that values productivity above all else. I had the distinct honour of interviewing Jaskwaan about X̱aad Kil, which is very much alive.

When did you begin to learn Xaad Kil?

 I heard my language at a young age from my Haida grandparents and grew up learning and singing a number of our Haida songs. My background is my Haida father, from the Yahu ‘jaanas Raven clan, and my white settler mother, adopted into the Tsiits Git’anee Eagle clan before marrying my father. My brother and I were members of the Kwe Unglis Haida dance group while raised in Prince Rupert, the urban Northwest Coast city across from Haida Gwaii. I began to seriously apply myself to learn X̱aad Kil, the G̱aw Tlagee or Old Massett dialect of the Haida language, when I was 24 years old and pregnant with my first daughter, Haana. I have been on this language learning journey for 18 years. Her father and I committed to giving our children access to our language and doing our best to have them surrounded in their formative years with the language of our territory to the best of our ability.  

Can you speak to the misconception that Indigenous languages are “lost”?

The misconception that Indigenous languages are “lost” is by design. This notion aligns with colonial illusions that Indigenous people are disappearing and have been since Europeans arrived. The reality is that Indigenous languages were targeted by a campaign of erasure by the Canadian government through their sadistic Residential School initiative. Generations of Indigenous children were forced to attend Residential Schools and forbidden to speak their language, subject to horrific violent abuse if they did. This abhorrent legacy has resulted in a myriad of intergenerational trauma within Indigenous communities, who face unique challenges to natural language transmission. The generations of the children of Residential and Day School survivors have only English as a first language. To come out of that and learn our Indigenous language is complex and layered and healing and empowering.

 Our languages come from the land and are the foundation of our culture and worldview. Our languages survived the colonial assault. The children who hid from Residential schools are our fluent Elder teachers today. Courageously, the fluent Elders who attended and survived the Residential and Day school experience found creative and heartfelt ways to keep the language strong within them, and they are our treasures and heroes. Language has been and continues to be passed down within our stories and songs. We have a legacy of leaders and activists who have fought against the injustices and violence aimed at destroying our languages and culture in this country. Because of those who came before us who ensured our language continues, it remains today, taught in our schools, heard in our Feasts, and spoken in our homes.  

In Haida Gwaii, the Haida language has been taught in our public schools for forty years. Work has been done and continues to be done to combat the Canadian legacy of violence and assault against our culture and people. The language remained over kitchen tables, within the reawakening of potlatches and ceremony, even after the targeted policy of the Indian Act that hoped to destroy all aspects of our Indigenous identity. The Haida language remained within our art, our intricate stories, songs, and each new child born who is the reincarnation of our kuuniisii (ancestors).

When I first learned some phrases in Halkomelem dialects, I was struck by how much they emulated the landscape. Xaad Kil, especially, sounds like the rolling ocean, soft cedar, and canopies of Sitka spruce to me. How would you describe the musicality of the dialect? 

This is a wonderful analogy!  I love the sounds unique to our language.  The Haida language is a language isolate, meaning it does not belong to any language family.  There are many sounds that emulate Raven, Yaahl.  Raven is a major player in our creation stories, culture and society. We Haida belong to one of two moieties, Raven or Eagle.  I love listening to Ravens talk.  It is said they have their own language.  

Our Haida language now has three dialects.  X̱aad Kil, the Old Massett or G̱aw Tlagee dialect, X̱aayda Kil the HlG̱aagildaa or Skidegate dialect, and X̱aad Kil, the Ḵ’iis or Alaskan dialect.  Every village on Haida Gwaii had their own dialect.  After our population decimation from the deliberate spread of smallpox (see Tom Swanky’s “The True Story of Canada’s “War” of Extermination on the Pacific” (2013)), our Northern Villages gathering into what is now Old Massett (G̱aw Tlagee), our Southern Villages to what is now Skidegate (HlG̱aagilda), and our villages in Southeast Alaska live now in Hydaburg..  So within our dialects today, there is variation as they are compiled of multiple dialects and we do our best to honour those differences.  

I love listening to the Skideagate X̱aayda Kil.  It has a musical quality to it and I think it sounds soothing. Our X̱aad Kil is also beautiful but in a different way.  Musically, our X̱aad Kil sounds quick and energetic.  I really love listening to the recordings of our fluent speakers tell stories or immersed in conversation.  As an Intermediate learner and speaker, if I have long passages to say in our language I like to mimic fluent speakers cadence and pitch, and my love of singing helps this aspect of speech.

Multilingual people often say that they feel like different people in each language they speak, and as someone who speaks a few languages, I share this sentiment. In the book Love In Translation, Wendy Tokunaga writes, “If first languages are reservoirs of emotion, second languages can be rivers undammed, freeing their speakers to ride different currents.” Can you speak to this? How would you describe the difference you feel speaking English and Xaad Kil?

English is my first language. I grew up hearing many terms of endearment and colloquial terms, but my Indigenous language seemed unattainable. This is a very similar situation to many other Indigenous people of my generation. I have learned Spanish through a student exchange at 18 years old. Learning Spanish was an entirely different situation than the factors I face learning my Indigenous language.

There are few opportunities to be surrounded in natural conversation in X̱aad Kil. Due to the language bans and the pervasive legacy of colonialism, there are very few first language speakers alive to teach us in our dialect. 

Since beginning my journey to learn X̱aad kil, I have become aware of the different thought processes required to speak our language properly. There is an intentional nature to our language that does not exist in Latinate or Germanic languages. X̱aad Kil possesses few generalized terms—it is necessary to know and include information in translation that contains details about shape, location, and subject. Many Elders would say, “English is backwards to X̱aad Kil.” Our grammar includes information at the end of the sentence that is often reflected at the beginning of English sentences. In other ways, English and its tendency to be so general and overarching (e.g. “thing” and “this”) are opposite to X̱aad Kil and the requirement to be specific. What is the“thing” exactly? Is “this” close to you or far away?

I feel more intentional when I speak X̱aad Kil. I feel I am honouring myself and what I am speaking. I am more aware of my positionality. I am more aware of what I am doing. I am more aware of objects and people and places around me as I speak X̱aad Kil. I am thankful to my Elder teachers and my kuuniisii (ancestors) as I speak and learn and teach my language. I have come to think that my ancestors were brilliant in how they formed our precious Haida language.

What are your favourite words/Xaad Kil phrases? 

My favourite thing to say above all is: Dang dii ḵuyaadang - I love you, also translated to “you are precious to me”.  I say this to my children every day, multiple times a day. 

I love that we have so many ways to tell someone how precious they are to us in X̱aad Kil.  We have many terms of endearment and I think this speaks volumes for our culture and the love we have for each other.  

There are so many beautiful words in our language.  There is so much information that we can relay in one verb - it is even possible to have a 13 part verb containing information such as shape, directional, verb, tense, auxiliary, and other context simply not found in English. 

What kind of initiatives are currently taking place to revitalize the language of the land? 

There are so many initiatives!  It is an exciting time.  The Mentor Apprentice program, developed by linguist Leanne Hinton and delivered here in British Columbia through the First Peoples Cultural Council (FPCC), is a proven method of teaching and learning Indigenous languages, especially considering the unique demographics of this province. I am currently finishing my third term as a FPCC Board of Director. British Columbia holds 60% of the Indigenous languages in what is now Canada.  There are many languages that have few first language speakers left. The Mentor Apprentice program pairs an Elder fluent speaker with an apprentice learner using a series of immersion techniques designed for the unique situation of Indigenous language transmission.  FPCC’s Mentor Apprentice Program is how I reached the level of X̱aad Kil proficiency I have today, by pairing with my mentor, the late Primrose Adams, for the program’s three year duration (2013-2016). 

Haida Gwaii has developed its own Mentor Apprentice program, and I am proud to currently serve as a Mentor two apprentices.  I truly believe in the strength reflected in the reciprocal nature of our teachings.  What we gain we give back, and in this action there is beauty and healing. 

Language learning opportunities within Indigenous communities vary.  Indigenous language programming targets newborn babies and very young children through Language Nest programs.   School age children can access learning through School District and Band school programming, and adults of all ages can attend community language learning classes. Land based initiatives such as immersion camps and traditional food gathering language based activities and programs are often prioritized in community.  On-line resources such as First Voices and Nation specific language learning websites, archives, and apps have been developed and made available .  Archiving and recording language is a large part of our strengthening efforts, as well media making and distribution. APTN has all multiple, multi generational Indigenous language shows available.  Indigenous language radio and other media such as songs are produced in an on-going fashion.  Further, a variety of glossaries, phrasebooks, dictionaries and children’s books have been created, published and distributed to community programs and learners.  

Finally, since we’ve deconstructed the idea that Xaad Kil and Indigenous Languages/Cultures aren’t lost, can you speak to something you feel is lost? 

The illusion of colonial dominance is lost. All around, Indigenous and non, it has been taught and reiterated through societal conditioning that Indigenous cultures are inferior and are “doomed” to disappear by the very existence of colonial structures, Western society, and time moving along into the future. Built within that illusion is a host of harmful beliefs that regaining and strengthening our Indigenous cultures, artforms, ceremonies, languages, and connection to our land is “impossible.” We have seen this type of thinking surface ad nauseum. In both academic and casual settings, I have run into this “absolute” by so many people (often Canadians) who state emphatically and often with sympathy: “Well, you can’t go back to the past.” 

We as Indigenous peoples and Nations have demonstrated time and time again that the aspects of who we are as human beings remain with us. Here in the Haida Nation, our art form is thriving. Our ceremonies and our language are strengthening. Our songs and dances are performed powerfully and in large numbers. Our connection to the land has always remained. The colonial illusion of ownership of these lands placed its dark shadow over us for too long. We are now emerging from the shadows and showing as we have shown in the past. This land, this language, this culture, this art form—it is ours. What was taken can be returned. What has been wronged can be made right.

Jaskwaan resides in Haida Gwaii, where she works as a Haida Culture and Curriculum Implementation Teacher for school district #50 and as the Team Lead for Xaad Kil Nee—The Haida Language Office in Faw Tlagee, Old Massett. Her greatest wish for the future of Xaad Kil is for Indigenous communities (and settler communities) to address our collective need for healing. “Gin ‘waadluuwaan gud Ahl ḵwaagiidang” (everything is connected to everything else). The need for restorative justice in regards to Indigenous languages is connected to our need to heal from the trauma of colonization as a whole.

Xaad Kil Nee has a thriving social media presence (find them on Instagram), and a Xaad Kil First Voices app and website are currently in the works. Find out more about the Skidegate Haida Immersion Program (SHIP).

Rachael Moorthy is Sad’s Poetry & Prose Editor
Cover Image by Jeff Gibbs